


The Dolphin

by Requin



Category: Holby City
Genre: 5 Times, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-15
Updated: 2018-03-15
Packaged: 2019-03-31 18:51:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13981203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Requin/pseuds/Requin
Summary: Serena has been keeping a little secret. 5 times Bernie has fun with it.





	The Dolphin

**Author's Note:**

> The idea for this came from [TheProdigalSapphist's](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheProdigalSapphist/pseuds/TheProdigalSapphist) rather wonderful brain.

Bernie doesn’t notice it until the third time they have sex. 

The first time, they don’t even make it up the stairs. Instead, Serena climbs onto Bernie’s lap on her sofa and things progress nicely from there. 

Bernie doesn’t actually see Serena naked until the second time, later upstairs in Serena’s bedroom, on Serena’s bed, but it’s pretty dark and Bernie can’t focus on much after she sees Serena’s breasts for the first time. And who could blame her? They are absolutely perfect. 

They roll around, hands everywhere, and Bernie finally has Serena exactly like she’s been wanting her for months: on her back with her legs spread and her knees raised, chest heaving and eyes dark. 

It’s not that Bernie isn’t paying attention to Serena’s body, after all Serena’s moans are a testament to how dedicated Bernie is, but they are still caught in a fever, even after taking the edge off earlier in the living room. 

It’s glorious, and hot, and sweaty and they go at it for most of the night until finally they fall asleep, spent and ecstatic. 

The next morning- well, just a few hours later- Bernie opens an eye, her heart a little fast because of the unfamiliar surroundings. The bedroom is awash with sunlight. The curtains were not drawn in their haste for round two. Bernie smiles at the memories. Gets a little flushed just at remembering how Serena had grabbed her by the lapels of her trench coat and kissed her roughly against the locked front door. And then at how Serena had been so eager to use her mouth again and again throughout the night. 

Bernie shifts, aroused all over again. Serena is facing away from her on her side, her bare shoulder just visible. 

Lucky for them, Jason was whisked away by Fletch for a sleepover, and they have the day off courtesy of a twinkling Hanssen on their way out of the hospital. Something about jet lag and overwork. Bernie was not paying attention, lost in Serena’s eyes, wondering if they were going to make it to Serena’s house before ripping their clothes off. 

Bernie reaches out and drags her fingers down Serena’s neck, caresses her shoulder, marvels at how soft Serena’s skin is. She scoots closer and grins when Serena opens her eyes and turns, a smile playing on her lips. 

“Now this is some sight to wake up to,” Serena all but drawls. 

Her voice is deep from sleep, and it does all sorts of funny things to Bernie’s belly. They look at each other and smile. Serena puts a hand on Bernie’s cheek, her thumb caressing Bernie’s cheekbone. Her eyes are bright and happy, and she looks beautiful in the morning sun. 

They kiss, far more leisurely than the previous night when it was heated and urgent. Now, Bernie takes her time, truly savours the wonder that is Serena’s bottom lip. She slips on top of Serena, moans at the warm skin and at Serena’s roaming hands. 

It feels different doing this in the light of day. There is no way to hide, Bernie suddenly realises. She’s very conscious of her scars. Some of them are still fresh and angry looking, like the one on her neck and the one bisecting her sternum. But there are older ones too. She has what she calls “battle scars”, acquired on tour. One across her thigh from a jittery trainee with a scalpel, unused to operating under fire. Another down her bicep, a silver line, from her own training, during a dreaded obstacle course over barbed wire. 

They are all on show now, obvious and impossible to hide. She doesn’t want to see pity or dismay in Serena’s eyes. Doesn’t want to cause a fuss. 

But Serena is looking at her with burning eyes, her hips rolling, and Bernie can feel how wet Serena is on her thigh. She still can’t believe she gets to do this, hold Serena like this, skin on skin, and to hear her whimper desperately in her ear. 

Bernie thinks she could come just like this, with Serena’s thigh between her legs and Serena’s breathy gasps igniting something in her belly that has long been dormant. 

Serena’s perfume still hangs in the air, and Bernie can taste it on Serena’s neck. There’s a spot, right beneath her ear, that makes her tremble, and Bernie pays it special attention while her hands palm Serena’s breasts. Serena moans, and she loops her arms around Bernie’s neck. Her hips push up and Bernie’s rhythm is shattered, a spike of arousal shooting from between her legs. She hears a deep laugh in her ear. 

“Behave,” Bernie growls, nipping Serena’s earlobe. 

Serena’s laugh turns into a moan, and Bernie’s patience runs out. She needs to make Serena fall apart, right now. She slides down Serena’s marvellous body, runs her tongue down between her breasts, dips into her belly button. Serena’s back is arched and her hands on Bernie’s wrists are shaking. Bernie licks a hipbone. Serena gasps. Bernie grins and is about to settle between Serena’s thighs when she spots something. 

She frowns. At first she thinks it’s a birthmark, right under Serena’s hipbone, but a closer inspection proves her wrong. Serena wriggles, impatient. Bernie stills her and looks more closely. 

“Bernie, what are you…” Serena says with a huff. 

Bernie’s mouth falls open and she looks up, stunned. 

“You have a tattoo?” She says incredulously. 

Serena’s face goes red in an instant. She hides in her hands and squirms. Bernie looks at it again. 

It’s a dolphin. A small one. Pretty tastefully done in a deep blue. It even has a friendly expression. Never in a million years would Bernie have imagined Serena with a tattoo. 

“Oh, stop looking at it! This is so embarrassing,” Serena says from underneath her hands. 

Bernie smiles and traces a finger along it. The skin is warm, and no different and Serena twitches. The dolphin moves as the muscle ripple. It’s no bigger than the pad of Bernie’s thumb. 

“It’s cute. I like it,” Bernie says, still touching it. 

And she’s not lying. It looks good on Serena’s smooth, pale skin. Serena peeks out from behind her fingers.  
“Really?” She asks, a little smile forming on her lips. 

Bernie nods and she leans down. She kisses the dolphin, smiles at Serena’s gasp, and then all thoughts of tattoos are forgotten. Serena looks down at her, a blush still high on her cheeks, but the heat is back in her eyes. 

Bernie settles and kisses Serena’s inner thigh, gently sucking the pliant flesh into her mouth. She lets her tongue trace patterns from the back of Serena’s knees, slowly back up to where she started. It’s a long exploration, and Bernie will not be rushed. Serena is panting, her hands clutching the sheets, a fine sheen of sweat coating her body. She is a glistening jewel; the finest one Bernie has ever seen. 

“Oh, god, please. Please, Bernie,” she whimpers. 

How can Bernie resist that? The words alone make her heart race. She smiles against Serena’s thigh and finally takes Serena into her mouth. Serena’s hands clutch Bernie’s hair, her hips roll into Bernie’s tongue. 

The sight of Serena with her head thrown back and all her glorious curves on show is making Bernie crazy. She doesn’t tease Serena. She sets a rhythm that has her screaming incredibly blasphemous language. It only serves to spur Bernie on. 

And on. And on. 

Serena comes with a strangled whimper, her face buried in a pillow. Her skin is flushed. Bernie kisses her way back into Serena’s arms. She waits until Serena catches her breath, great gulps of air finally turning into regular breathing. 

Bernie lets one hand trail down Serena’s body, soothing rather than teasing, and it comes to rest at Serena’s hip. 

“So…tell me the story behind this. How did Serena Campbell, leading vascular surgeon and Harvard graduate, end up getting a tattoo?” Bernie asks with a teasing smile, her eyes sparkling. 

They have a lot more to talk about. Bernie hasn’t really unpacked from Ukraine yet. But the day is young, they are both happy, and there will be time for explanations and further excuses later on. Now Bernie really wants to know about the little surprise on Serena’s hip.

Serena groans, but she also puts an arm under Bernie’s head and snuggles into her. 

“Right. Promise you won’t laugh?” Serena implores. 

“I promise no such thing,” Bernie teases back. 

Serena huffs and she tenses. Bernie kisses her shoulder in apology. 

“I promise,” she reassures. 

Serena looks at her sternly for a beat or two, but whatever she sees on Bernie’s face seems to do the trick. 

“All right. I wish it was something meaningful, but I’m afraid it wasn’t,” Serena starts. 

Bernie sinks into their embrace and closes her eyes. Her head is pillowed on Serena’s shoulder. She has always loved Serena’s voice, and she smiles at the humour coating Serena’s words. 

“You haven’t met Sian, have you?” Serena asks. 

Bernie shakes her head. She’s heard about her though, the Uni friend that amuses and annoys Serena in equal measures. 

“Right, well, we went to university together. We were in the same halls in first year. She was doing some ill thought out Italian degree, and of course I was doing medicine. And she was a real party girl. Very popular, very pretty,” Serena says. 

“Not as pretty as you,” Bernie chimes in. 

Serena snorts and swats Bernie’s arm. 

“Anyway, we became friends after I rescued her from a creep in a pub, and then she spent the better part of four years trying to lead me astray.”  
“Oh yes? I bet that didn’t take much,” Bernie says with a small smile. 

“I’ll have you know I was a dedicated student and graduated top of my class.” Serena replies primly. 

Bernie promised she wouldn’t laugh so she presses her lips in a thin line. 

“And talking of graduation, Sian took me out the night after ours to celebrate. We got horrendously drunk and we somehow found a tattoo parlour that was dodgy enough to do what we wanted,” Serena explains while rolling her eyes at her younger self. 

“And why the dolphin?” Bernie asks, intrigued. 

Serena laughs and tightens her arms around Bernie. 

“I wanted the Rod of Asclepius, but the bloke had never heard of it, so a dolphin it was! It’s my favourite animal,” Serena says with a blush. 

Bernie twists and lands a kiss on Serena’s lovely lips, and it leaves them breathless and a little giddy. 

“And what did Sian get?” 

Serena’s lips are swollen and Bernie suddenly doesn’t care about the answer anymore. She starts rocking against Serena, kisses her neck slowly, her tongue on Serena’s pulse point. Serena moans, a low sound that thrums through Bernie’s entire body. 

“She got a- oh god Bernie- a Chinese character. Thought it- yes right there- meant beauty, but she found out- god, yes faster- it actually meant silly rice,” Serena manages to say between gasps. 

Bernie will have a good laugh about it later, but for now her mouth is otherwise engaged. 

*

A few days later Serena gets to work just as Bernie clocks off. They’ve been spending all their spare time together, but a couple of minutes is all they get today. Bernie volunteered to head the night shift to give Raf a free evening at home with Fletch and the kids. 

Bernie kisses her softly in the privacy of their office and swans off, leaving a very flustered Serena behind. 

Shaking her head with a smile on her lips, Serena sits at her desk. There is a post it on her computer monitor. “Thinking about Flipper” it says in Bernie’s handwriting. 

Serena frowns, confused, and she’s about to text Bernie for an explanation when suddenly it hits her. Flipper. Her dolphin. Serena snorts. She turns the little piece of paper and there is even a terrible drawing, one that looks like a potato with eyes. 

“How very droll, Major,” she mutters to herself, blushing. 

*

It’s weeks later when Serena and Bernie are about to leave work for a rare free weekend. The feat has required twisting Ric’s arm and having to suffer through a whole week of his dubious innuendos, so Serena is keen to get a move on. They are walking down the hallway to exit their floor when Fletch rounds the corner. He smiles when he sees them. 

“All right bosses? Any plans for the weekend?” He asks with a teasing tilt of his head. 

Serena is about to tear him a new one for his cheek, and really she has had enough of people commenting on her personal life, when Bernie opens her mouth. 

“Going to visit an old army pal,” she says with a straight face. 

Serena frowns. She has it on good authority that Bernie was planning on keeping her in bed for 48 hours. 

“Yep. In town all weekend. His name is Flipper.” 

Serena starts coughing, her face red. She feels Fletch’s eyes on her, concerned. 

“You ok Serena?” 

She raises her hand and nods. Bernie still has a straight face on. 

“Going to spend all weekend with Flipper. We are excellent friends, aren’t we Serena?” 

Serena splutters. Fletch is still looking at her like she has two heads. She straightens, blushing, and manages a grimace that barely passes for a smile. Bernie is going to pay for this, Serena vows. 

“Yes, yes, excellent. Well, have a good one Fletch. We must get on, bye bye now,” Serena says and she grabs Bernie by the elbow. 

“Have fun with your friend, Bernie,” Fletch says from behind them. 

Bernie smiles, her eyes dancing with merriment. Serena is going to kill her. 

“Oh, I will,” Bernie says very seriously over her shoulder. 

Fletch looks thoroughly confused and he gives them half a wave. Bernie is shaking with silent laughter. 

“I cannot believe you said that!” Serena hisses as they enter the lift. 

Bernie honks when the doors close. She looks so free and happy that Serena finds herself smiling. The lift goes down slowly, and for once Serena doesn’t mind. She gently presses Bernie against the wall, smiling when Bernie’s laughter dies in her throat. She puts her lips near Bernie’s ear, and Bernie shivers. 

“All weekend huh?” Serena purrs. 

Bernie gulps. The doors ding open and Serena steps out. She turns when Bernie doesn’t follow, an eyebrow raised. 

“Well? I believe Lieutenant Flipper is waiting,” she says dryly. 

Bernie’s smile is wide and bright. 

“He’s at least a Captain!” She says as she all but runs after Serena. 

*

The house is finally quiet after a pretty tense Christmas dinner. Serena sighs as she removes her make up. She can hear Bernie tidying up downstairs. Jason is already in bed, no doubt exhausted by all the extra social interaction. While Cameron and Charlotte had been perfect, if awkward guests, Elinor had outdone herself with the barbs, confusing Jason more than once with all the innuendo. 

“All good downstairs,” Bernie says from behind her. 

Serena’s heart quickens just at the sight of her. Bernie is dressed all in black and her hair shines like a halo. 

“You ok?” Bernie asks, taking a few steps into the room. 

Serena shrugs, her throat tight and her eyes filling with tears. For all her bravado in the face of Elinor’s quips, Serena has to admit a few landed and her ego is a little bruised. 

“She’ll come round, Serena. She loves you. She’s just a little overwhelmed right now. I mean look at mine, at where we were and we are now,” Bernie says gently, putting her hands on Serena’s shoulders. 

Serena nods. She feels a little better. Bernie puts her arms on Serena’s waist and Serena looks at the two of them in the mirror. Bernie smiles, her eyes soft, her chin on Serena’s shoulder. 

“Have I told you you look beautiful?” Bernie asks. 

Serena raises an eyebrow, charmed. 

“You have. Just before the children arrived,” Serena replies. 

Bernie tightens her hold and kisses Serena just underneath her ear. 

“Well, that dress suits you so well, I’ll just have to say it twice,” Bernie whispers against Serena’s neck. 

Serena feels herself flush. She’s had a bit of wine, has had a long day, and Bernie is making her feel like the most desired woman in the world. Her brain is deliciously fuzzy and she moans when Bernie’s fingers splay on her belly, hot and insistent. 

She looks at their reflection and can’t help but gasp at how dark Bernie’s eyes are. She tracks Bernie’s hands as they slowly ruck up her dress. Breathless, she watches as her knees appear, and any second now…

“Christ, Serena,” Bernie whispers, her voice rough. 

Serena smiles and slips her hands on top of Bernie’s. 

“Merry Christmas,” she says, and bites her lower lip. 

Bernie closes her eyes for a second, seemingly overwhelmed, but she pulls Serena against her and they slot nicely together, curves fitting. Serena lets her head fall back onto Bernie’s shoulder. 

“You’ve been wearing this all evening?” Bernie chokes out. 

It’s doing wonders to Serena’s ego. She gives Bernie her sauciest smile and Bernie groans. Her fingers are toying with the small silk ribbons tying the lace garter belt to the black stockings. 

“You’re going to kill me,” Bernie says, her wide eyes glazed over with want. 

Serena leans back, neck bared, and kisses Bernie’s jaw. 

“I hope not, darling. I enjoyed putting this on for you, but I daresay I’ll enjoy you taking it off even more,” she says with an arch of her back. 

Bernie’s hands tighten on Serena’s thighs. Serena is enjoying this, seeing Bernie so keyed up and turned on. She’s always liked dressing up for her partners, but there’s something especially arousing in making Berenice Wolfe lose her self control. 

Bernie licks her lips, her eyes darting to Serena’s face in the mirror and then to her own hands, and she makes the decision to slowly unzip Serena’s dress at the back. She seems sad to let it go, and Serena vows to wear it again soon. 

The dress ends up at Serena’s feet and there Serena stands in all her glory, garbed in very expensive lingerie. The look in Bernie’s eyes is giving her enough confidence to withstand the scrutiny. She feels adored. Bernie caresses her sides, her belly, and stops just under her breasts.

“You are so beautiful, Serena,” Bernie whispers in Serena’s ear. 

And Serena has never felt more beautiful in her life. Bernie, she feels, can truly appreciate the effort that it has taken to look like this. And even better, it’s obvious from Bernie’s feverish kisses on her neck and the slight shake of her fingers, that she has never had anyone dress up for her. The thought thrills Serena, that she can give Bernie this. 

She puts her hands on Bernie’s forearms to encourage her, and Bernie doesn’t need to be told twice. She palms Serena’s breasts, sucks her earlobe, makes her cry out. Serena feels her legs tremble and her knees give out, but Bernie anchors her with a strong arm around her middle. 

Serena hears a low chuckle in her ear and she moans, the sound making her belly clench. 

“Let’s make you more comfortable, yes?” Bernie breathes out against Serena’s temple.

It only takes a turn and four steps, Serena still pressed against Bernie’s still clothed body, her hands balled into fists into Bernie’s shirt, and then they fall into bed. The lights are still on, but all Serena can see is Bernie’s face above her own and her dark eyes.

They kiss, and Serena tries to undo Bernie’s shirt, she really does, but then Bernie starts kissing her way down her body and she loses track of where her hands are. 

Bernie unclasps her bra after kissing the delicate black lace, hums her delight at the sight of Serena’s breasts. No one has quite looked at Serena like Bernie does. It makes her skin burn. It’s a heady, all encompassing feeling to be on the receiving end of Bernie’s love, and it sometimes overwhelms her, as if her body isn’t able to contain all the love she feels in return. 

Bernie is worshipping her, kissing and licking and kneading parts of her she never really liked before. But Bernie loves all of her, spends time mapping every inch of her with her fingers and tongue. Tonight feels like Bernie is unwrapping a present, a precious gift of immense value. 

Serena’s mind is half gone by the time Bernie slips her underwear off. She leaves the stockings on though, whispers hotly in Serena's ear that she loves them. Serena whimpers as Bernie settles between her thighs, the fabric of Bernie’s shirt a delightful sensation against the soft skin of Serena’s inner thighs. 

“Hello, old friend,” Bernie whispers. 

Serena frowns, but then gasps when she feels Bernie’s tongue swipe under her hipbone. 

“He’s not that old,” Serena grumbles half heartedly, panting. 

“No, but we are the best of friends, aren’t we?” And Bernie uses her teeth to scrape against the tattoo. 

Serena whines, desperate to come now and so wet and full of love. Bernie chuckles and finally gives Serena what she wants, her tongue tracing fanciful patterns into wet heat. Serena moans and thrashes. 

Past lovers had always made it seem like this particular activity was a favour on their part. But with Bernie, it is as if Serena is the one bestowing a great honour, as if Bernie would love nothing more than to spend hours making Serena scream just with her mouth. The clear enjoyment is a rush in itself. Serena buries a hand in Bernie’s hair, arches her back off the bed and comes with a strangled whimper. 

“You are a vision,” Bernie whispers adoringly against Serena’s thigh, her face wet and happy. 

Serena curls and stretches, grabs at Bernie with shaking hands. Bernie scoots up willingly. 

“And you, soldier, are extremely overdressed,” Serena replies. 

The glint in Bernie’s eyes makes her heart soar. 

*

“Mum, can I have your phone? I need to check the train times and my phone’s dead.” 

Bernie hums distractedly, waves her assent. Cameron grabs her phone, and she goes back to her medical journal. There is this fascinating article on trauma assessment and guidelines, and she simply must talk to Serena about it. AAU could definitely…

“Uh, mum? Who’s Flipper?” Cameron asks. 

Bernie’s head snaps up so fast she winces. Cameron is in the armchair opposite her and staring at her phone with a frown.

“What?” 

“You just got a text from Serena. Sorry, it just popped up. She said Flipper really wants to see you? Like, what? The dolphin?” Cameron snorts. 

Bernie feels a mighty blush coming on. This can not be happening. Her jaw tightens and the journal drops to the floor. Cameron’s eyes widen. 

“Oh…uh, okay. Is that a euphemi…you know what? I don’t want to know.” 

He throws back the phone to Bernie like it’s a live bomb and Bernie stammers through an explanation that doesn’t go anywhere because Charlotte walks in the living room with a packed bag and her coat on. 

“Right! Ready? The train leaves in 20 minutes,” she says, oblivious to the horror on Bernie’s face. 

Bernie jumps up and nods under Charlotte’s concerned eyes. Cameron is visibly smothering a smile. Bernie gives him a warning look that hasn’t worked since he left home for university. She misses those days. 

“Yep, come on, let’s go. Bye mum,” Cameron says. And then he leans in. “Have fun with Flipper.” 

Bernie sputters, ears and cheeks red. She gives her children hugs anyway, glad their weekend was such a success, and she watches them leave with a fond smile. 

Then as they round the corner of the hallway that leads to the lifts, she hears Charlotte turn to Cameron. 

“Who the hell is Flipper?”


End file.
